


Calendar Block

by amireal



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Love, M/M, relationship drama, was supposed to be fluffier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 12:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1427779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amireal/pseuds/amireal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, it just gets away from you and before you know it, three months pass and everything is a mess.</p><p>or</p><p>Clint Barton worries, with good reason, but acts like an adult about it and uses his words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calendar Block

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be fluff, it turned into aaangst that ends happily!

TUESDAY

It wasn't Phil's fault, which made it worse, because getting mad at him wasn't just unfair, it wasn't helpful. Clint sighed and hit send on his reply. 

WAKE ME WHEN YOU GET IN.

The movie was half over before Clint realized Phil hadn't sent anything back. He used to send messages back. These days it seemed like the only messages Phil sent to Clint were schedule updates. 

Clint fell asleep halfway into movie number three, Phil nowhere in sight.

Sunrise was like a bright icepick in his eye. He grunted and stretched. He'd fallen asleep curled up into himself, and his entire body felt like it was made of over stretched rubber bands that could no longer snap back. His neck didn't want to finish the slow rotation he was attempting - pain erupted just as he moved towards his right shoulder and he couldn't even finish the stretch.

Parts of him were asleep and they wouldn't wake up until he bent himself into strange positions so his muscles would loosen up enough to allow blood flow to resume. He limped into the kitchen to start the coffee, since he wasn't going to get back to bed and he was too grumpy to even try.

While the coffee brewed, he took a look around the apartment and saw Phil's coat and briefcase near the door. That hurt a little, because it meant Phil might have walked right past him. There was a niggling bit of doubt that made him wonder if maybe Phil hadn't just been dead tired and not thinking straight.

Phil shuffled out of the guest bedroom by the time the pot was mostly full. That explained why Clint's lack of presence in bed hadn't alarmed him. Phil mumbled good morning, poured himself a cup and stumbled to the couch to watch the morning news. Even Phil's consideration was hurting these days.

"Hey." Clint waited until half the mug was empty before attempting conversation. "How's Thursday looking?"

Phil closed his eyes. "Terrible. Just. Terrible."

"Ah." Clint swallowed back a comment about SHIELD not being a one man operation and carried on, "Because I was thinking we could hit that Greek place. You're looking a little worn around the edges. You could use a break." 

"A break," Phil said with a smile. "I have heard tales of such a thing, but I thought they were only legends from a more magical time."

Clint laughed. "Yeah, it sounds pretty insane, right? Taking some time to yourself? Wanna investigate it together?"

"Maybe," Phil said, swallowing a yawn. "Sounds nice. Send me your ideas."

Clint's smile faded. He thought he had. "Sounds good," he said faintly, "I'll make reservations for Thursday night? Late? So you can get your work done."

Phil didn't answer, as he was too busy chugging the rest of his coffee.

"Phil?"

Phil was already pushing up off the couch, empty mug in hand. "What?"

"Nothing," Clint said to his retreating back. "I'll email you."

THURSDAY

Clint looked down at his phone:

IMPORTANT MEETING. SEE YOU AT HOME.

His shoulders dropped. Damnit, he'd gotten his hopes up after making the reservation.

SATURDAY

"Hey," Clint whispered. "Phil? Wanna hit that museum you were talking about? That exhibit you were talking about is in town this week."

Phil barely moved.He looked dead tired but Clint thought maybe if he made plans and then let Phil sleep in, there'd be a good chance of follow through.

"Tired," Phil mumbled, "sleep."

"I know," Clint whispered, "but later?"

"Conference call," Phil said, not moving. "3pm. Saw exhibit last week with Georgian delegation."

Clint's heart sank. "Okay, rest up."

SUNDAY

"Where're you going?" Phil asked from behind his laptop.

"Oh," Clint shrugged. "Out. Maybe that museum thing, sounded interesting, give us something to talk about."

Phil smiled shyly. "You don't have to do that."

Clint waved him off and closed the door to their apartment. "I know," he said quietly to empty hallway.

TUESDAY

Clint tucked the box of muffins under his arm and knocked quietly on Betty's cubicle wall. "Hey Betty, guess what I have?"

Betty was a senior administrator.She was from the era where all women were either cafeteria workers or secretaries. She'd been the one to galvanize SHIELD's second tier staff into better accommodations and better treatment all around. She was tough, wiry and whip smart, but she looked like someone's grandma, complete with silver hair and a kind smile. She liked to use it to confuse the asshole newbies. "Why, dear, I'm sure your form is here somewhere!"

Betty looked up from her computer and used one long finger to tip her glasses down. "Why, Agent Barton, is that a bribe?"

Clint mimed getting shot in the heart. "Betty! You wound me! This is but a token of my esteem!"

"Uh huh." Betty wasn't fooled, not one bit, but she liked him, and their little routines seemed to brighten her day. "Well, let's see it, what've you got?"

Clint produced a box of carrot muffins with chocolate chips. Fresh from his own oven.

Betty gave him an interested eye. "Whatever you want, it's big."

"Not really," Clint said soothingly, "just a little complicated."

Betty took a bite and smiled happily, chewing and swallowing with a happy hum. "Mm. Ginger. You are a good lad." 

Clint waited for her to take a few more bites, sitting down in her visitor chair.

"Okay," Betty said halfway through her muffin, "lay it on me, I am sufficiently convinced of your need."

Clint tried to smile easily, but Betty's face told him he wasn't succeeding. "Can I get Agent Coulson's schedule for the last three months?"

Betty's face fell. "Oh sweetheart, that's beyond classified."

"I don't need the data, just the occupied blocks and who assigned them," Clint said earnestly. "Please, Betty, I really need this."

She took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. "What's going on, sweety?"

Clint stared at her, misery churning in his stomach. "I need to know if he's doing this to himself, working himself so hard that he doesn't have time for anything- anyone else. If it's him then-- then I can make decisions."

Indecisive wasn't a look one often saw on Betty. "And if it's not?"

"Then I can show it to him, maybe he doesn't realize what--" He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, "I don't know, Betty, I just know I can't live like this anymore; it's gotta stop, or at least, there has to be an end coming." He slumped further into his chair. "At this point, any end is better than this."

Betty stared at him with an assessing gaze that reminded him of Phil, when he used to pay attention to Clint. "No names? No meeting agendas? Just occupied blocks, general classifications only?"

Clint nodded, "And who assigned the blocks, that's the extra work. I know that data isn't attached to general calendar files."

She nodded. "Come back tomorrow. Three months needs a little time."

Clint thanked her and left, with a terrible feeling in his gut that he wasn't going to like what he was asking for.

WEDNESDAY - Morning

Before Clint found his way to Betty and the data he'd requested, he put in an appointment request for Phil's time on Thursday, near the end of the day. Clint never asked for an appointment, so he was sure he could leave the reason blank and probably get one, but with the way things had been going lately he didn't want to leave it to chance. So he put down that the asset wished to discuss his career path within the agency. Phil would probably assume he wanted some specialized training. If he thought about it at all.

WEDNESDAY - Evening

Clint took himself to their favorite diner, the one that was all private booths and quiet talking. It had character -- not the loud, brash kind that TV shows liked to give diners, but a subtler flavor that Clint really liked. The data was as anonymous as possible. Phil's name wasn't even on it, and you had to know what it was to know what any of it meant. So he Clint felt no qualms taking it with him and pouring over it with a beer in hand.

The news was good, mostly. It looked like Fury had piled on a new project and that had funneled down a lot onto Phil. It tapered off for a bit, but then Fury threw another one at him. The code was different. Betty had kindly labeled the blocks by project, using nonsense words as code, usually fruits. That second project seemed to split Phil's time pretty evenly with the first. On top of that were Phil's regular duties. 

Something was weird here, the pattern wasn't even remotely hard to see-- someone should have caught this before now. Though maybe not Phil, it was hard to see it all from the inside. With a sigh, Clint pulled out a pen and started making notes.

THURSDAY - 5:45PM

"Clint?" Phil blinked in confusion and then checked his schedule. "Why on earth did you make an appointment?"

Clint stared at him, unimpressed. "Really?"

Phil stared some more and then frowned. "I know I've been a little busy but--"

Clint's face went even stonier as he slipped his carefully annotated pieces of paper across the desk. "That's not busy. That's insane."

Phil looked ready to argue, but he glanced up at Clint and something stopped him. Instead he pulled the pile of papers closer, and Clint sat down and watched him read.

First was puzzlement at what the data was, then annoyance that Clint had gotten around protocols like that, along with Betty for playing along and then -- more puzzlement. Clint could practically see the confusion growing like a large, question mark shaped thought bubble rising over Phil's head. By the second page, shock was setting in, and anger followed soon after. Clint hoped it wasn't directed at him.

By the time the last page was done, Phil's lips were pressed together tightly, and the anger had taken over most of his body language, even if his face only showed the barest traces. "Son of a bitch," he said finally. "That asshole."

Okay, that wasn't any of the reactions Clint had expected.

Phil picked up his phone, dialed an extension and waited patiently.

"Nick," Phil said in a clipped tone, "you can take your compromise along with your promotion and shove it up your ass, and the next time you try and force me into something I clearly expressed I didn't want, by using the exact things I told you I didn't want to happen, I'm quitting."

Clint was sure his eyes were bugging out of his skull. That was nowhere near any of the scenarios he envisioned for this moment. "Phil?" he asked, his anger suddenly gone, leaving behind only confusion and tiredness.

The phone was hung up with such force that Clint worried Phil had cracked it. Phil's eyes closed tightly and he took a few deep breaths, his shoulders slowly easing further downward with each exhale. "Clint," he said, eyes still closed, "god. You must hate me."

"No!" Clint blurted out, "no, Phil. I was just really worried. I didn't know what was going on. I haven't seen you outside of work and being practically passed out unconscious for weeks."

"Months," Phil corrected flatly. "Don't sugar coat it, I've been an ass." He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I just thought if I could get through the that first huge lump of work, it'd even out, but it was like the deck was stacked, which apparently it was. I had no idea I'd been-- that my schedule had been that big of a mess."

"I just want to spend time with you," Clint said, a hollow ache inside of him slowly filling back up. "I miss you."

Phil smiled a brittle smile. "Me too, so much. It's why I would hit the guest room when I came in too late. I was worried I'd bother you, just wake you up and be pathetically tired in your presence."

"I'd've been fine with that," Clint said softly. "That's plenty on long days. I understand long days, but these months were -- I started looking at classifieds the other day, and that's when I knew we had to sort this out."

Phil made a pained noise and then in an abrupt flurry of movement closed everything down. "Let's go home."

THURSDAY - 8PM

Phil curled around him tightly, tucking Clint's head under his chin, using his foot to hook behind Clint's knee and drag it over his legs. They'd shared lazy hand jobs, more concerned with kissing and touching than getting off, and now, nearly an hour later, they were naked, sweaty and blissed out on the endorphins of a really good orgasm.

"I love you," Clint whispered, braiding their fingers together, "so much."

"I love you too," Phil said into his hair. 

There was a contented silence that descended. It felt at odds with the desperate sort of clutching they were both doing, holding just a little too tight, both deeply aware of how close they came to losing this.

Under Clint's ear, he could feel Phil take a deep breath to say something.

"Don't ever feel like you can't talk about that kind of thing with me," Phil said, the slight rush of words the only betrayal of his unease. "Did you think I wouldn't listen?"

Clint kissed the nearest patch of skin and pulled Phil closer, the few millimeters he could, "I was afraid you already weren't."

"Never," Phil whispered roughly, "I will always listen to you."

Clint nodded, letting his free thumb stroke careful circles in Phil's skin. "Even if sometimes I might have to hit you over the head first?"

"I won't even press charges," Phil murmured rolling them to their sides and nosing his way down Clint's face until their lips pressed together gently. 

"Generous," Clint said into Phil's lips, kissing him deeper. The desperation to be closer was only now fading, but it still made Clint want to try and climb inside Phil and never come out.

"Just in love," Phil said, holding him tight.

Clint smiled softly and pulled Phil even closer.


End file.
